Shari Randall's"Pets" will be included in Chesapeake Crimes: Fur, Feathers, and Felonies anthology, which will be published in 2018. In the same anthology "Rasputin," KM Rockwood'sshort story, will also bepublished. Her short story "Goldie" will be published in the Busted anthology, which will be released by Level Best Books on April 25th.

In addition, our prolific KM has had the following shorts published as well: "Making Tracks" in Passport to Murder, Bouchercon anthology, October 2017 and "Turkey Underfoot," appears in the anthology The Killer Wore Cranberry: a Fifth Course of Chaos.

Sunday, September 2, 2012

How Do You Use Light?

Moonlight seen from the deck

As I
write this blog, a mild breeze shivers the leaves of the trees between our
house and the lake and causes the evening light to dance on the water. Most of
the leaves are still green, and the light shines from slightly north of west.
In three weeks the leaves will be yellows, oranges, reds and browns; the sunset
will appear due west. It was just such a day fifteen years ago we first walked
the land we now call home.

Early Autumn

In her
interviews fellow blogger E. B. asks as a bonus question, “Beach or mountains?”
My answer would be first “yes” and then “no.” In my fantasies as a young adult,
I dreamed of retiring to three homes. One in high mountains to avoid summer’s
heat; a second on a remote northern lake for spring and fall; the third on an
ocean beach for winter.

As
financial reality (and the impracticality of taking care of multiple residences
by one who thinks home repairs are much closer to death by hanging on the scale
of punishments than to a day in a jail) I only own one of those dreams. I could
have chosen any of the three, but I picked the remote northern lake.

I think
it is because of the light.

Mountain
retreats or oceanfront property provide the opportunity for horizon-length
vistas. One could probably find such a long view in the big sky country of
Montana for less cost, but that never appealed to me. In time, I learned that while
long views can inspire me, I want to live day-to-day in a world of varied
light. Shadows of the natural world are as important to me as the light itself.

In
uniform light, a picture, or the world itself, lacks depth. A character in a
novel illuminated only with flood lamp details is featureless, washed out,
uninteresting. Only in the shadows can you see the wrinkles from years of squinting
or over-tanning skin into leather.

Reflected Sunset

We have
a dock from which we can watch the lake without the interference of tree
trunks, branches and leaves. Guests often use it, but I rarely do other than
for swimming. One of our neighbors has gone so far as to cut down almost all
his trees to provide a “pristine” view of the lake. I find myself choosing the
partially occluded view from the house deck in preference to the unobstructed
view from the dock. I can watch waves through the gaps between trees; see a
duck swim by and wait for it to appear in the next opening. From my perch I
observe birds flitting from tree to tree. I catch the shadow of an eagle flying
overhead.

Porch late afternoon

As
leaves lose their battle to gravity and drop from branch to ground, the woods
open up. At the same time, the sun is lower in the sky and trees cast longer
shadows. Jan claims this view as her favorite time of year for light, but only,
I think, because autumn is now approaching. If asked in early spring she would
exalt over the woods seen in new light and the variety of greens the woods use
to cloak themselves in leaf-wear.

Maybe I
have chosen the wooded lakeshore because bright light hurts my eyes. Maybe I am
fooling myself with my preference for subtlety and the shadow side of things. I
don’t think so; I suspect the desire to understand the impact of shadow explains
why I write mysteries.

How fortunate you are to be able to translate what you see into paintings. I tried oil painting once and had sufficient layers by the time I was finished that my painted mountains did indeed cast shadows!

Beautiful pictures, Jim. Like you I like trees that create shadows. If I had a cabin on a lake, I'd prefer viewing it through trees, too. I love sunny days on my morning walks in my woods because of the dappled sunlight and shadows.

Carolyn Hart once said in an interview at Malice that she didn't like mountains or trees and much preferred the wide open spaces of Okalhoma where she lives.I couldn't understand it then and still can't now, but we're all different in what we like.

I think light has always inspired artists. When I look at paintings, I notice how the painter captured light. I've noticed how I react to light in nature, and I agree, it is inspiring. When the earth is dark and the sky, light-- a unique blend where the clouds block light from shining down, but above the sun shines--seems indicative of reality.

The light in the Outer Banks inspires me. On days when the ocean is clear, light reflects from the shoals under the water surrounding the islands illuminating the sky in such an intensity that you feel as though you are seeing truth, heaven and God. It's a beautiful sight.

Landscape and the light that goes with it are so important to our sense of place.

I remember my grandmother saying that each year when returning from wintering in Florida upon reaching the rolling hills of the Finger Lakes region of New York State, she would always grow a bit weepy and recite to herself the first verse of the 121st Psalm: "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence commeth my help."

God may have played a role in her thinking, but I'm pretty sure in this case she was mostly referring to her comfort in returning to home geography.

Jim, beautiful photos of a gorgeous place! No wonder you're so enamored of it.

I love mountains and love the beach, love the desert and love the woods. For happy living, though, I need rivers and creeks, trees, and rolling hills--or the seemingly barren prairie of the Flint Hills of Kansas. I know folks drive past them, thinking they're barren but they have a subtle beauty that I love. I live in KC among rivers, lots of trees, and rolling hills--and a couple of hours from the Flint Hills--so I'm well-situated.